Delicious Destiny

by Yahrah St. John

  Shari was sure Grant felt the exact opposite, but he played up the giddy new husband routine and soon they were heading to a bridal suite to change clothes.

  Belinda joined her in one of the rooms. “Wow, that was some ceremony,” she said as she helped Shari out of her wedding dress. “I can’t believe how well it came together at the last minute.”

  “It was pretty nice,” Shari said as Belinda loosened the bustier straps on the back of her gown so Shari could step out of it.

  “So...” Belinda paused. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you haven’t been with many men and now you’ve up and married a man you hardly know.” When Shari started to say something, Belinda held her hands up. “I know you had Andre together, but marriage? I just hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  Shari wasn’t sure she did, but what was done was done. She’d made her bed and now she had to lie in it.

  Grant knocked on the door several minutes later.

  “Come in.”

  “You ready?” he asked, poking his head into the room.

  “She is,” Belinda answered for her.

  Before she knew it, they were rushing out of the hotel and into a town car that had been decorated with wedding bells and Just Married signs as her family threw birdseed at them. They stopped for a moment to kiss Andre goodbye since he would be staying with her parents for the night.

  “See you soon, sweetheart.” Shari kissed Andre’s cheek before sliding into the backseat. Grant joined her soon after and they were on their way.

  Chapter 7

  “Boy, am I glad that’s over.” Grant unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He’d changed out of his wedding tuxedo into a casual linen suit with a collared shirt. He looked handsome as always and Shari’s heart soared.

  Shari sat nervously in the seat beside him in the car. They’d chained themselves to each other in an unholy alliance and she wasn’t sure what would happen next. Grant didn’t seem to care because he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, which signaled to Shari that he wasn’t worried about it.

  When they arrived at the Drake, the valet opened the car door. “Congratulations,” he said to the both of them.

  “Thank you.” Shari plastered a smile on her face. She hung back and admired the lobby while Grant checked them in.

  The Drake Hotel, a Chicago landmark, was just off the Magnificent Mile. Her mother and aunt had taken her and Belinda there for high tea, and Shari had always been impressed by the classic decor of the hotel. As she looked around the lobby, she was greeted with ornate crown molding, rich brocade fabrics, crystal chandeliers and fresh flower arrangements.

  Once Grant obtained their key card, they rode the elevator in silence up to the Princess Diana Suite, and Grant opened the door. He surprised her, though, when he swept her off her feet, into his arms and into the room. Once they cleared the threshold, instead of kissing and making out like most newlyweds, he lowered her back to her feet.

  Shari just stared at Grant for several seconds, but he was already moving away. As she walked inside the suite, Shari was impressed with the sumptuous furnishings and luxurious draperies.

  “You like?” Grant asked.

  “It’s lovely,” Shari responded, spinning around on her heel. “Looks like you spared no expense.”

  “Nothing but the best for Mrs. Robinson,” Grant said, removing his jacket. He went over to the bar that had been stocked for the evening, poured himself a brandy and took a generous sip.

  “Grant, are you regretting your decision to marry me?” Shari asked quietly, taking a seat on a nearby chaise. She couldn’t help but notice a hint of derision in his voice.

  “No, why would you say that?” he asked, pacing the floor.

  Shari shrugged. “You seem a little on edge.”

  “Yeah, well, today was a long day,” Grant replied, taking another sip of brandy. “You know, keeping up the pretense of being long-lost sweethearts.”

  “My family seemed to buy it,” Shari said. “But I was surprised you didn’t invite your family.”

  “Wasn’t time,” Grant murmured under his breath.

  “Or did you not want them to be there?” Shari asked. “Were you embarrassed of me, of Andre?”

  Grant looked as if she’d stabbed a dagger in his heart. He quickly rushed to her side. “Do you really think that?”

  “I don’t know what to think.” Shari shrugged. “I mean they had two weeks. They could have made it. Maybe they didn’t want to meet their bastard grandson.”

  Grant put down his glass and grabbed Shari by the shoulders. “Don’t ever say that again. And I’m sorry I said it before. We’re a family now and he’s got two parents, a mother and a father.”

  When Shari winced at Grant’s strong arms, he relinquished his harsh grasp. “Sorry. Listen, that’s not why I didn’t invite them.”

  “Then why?” Shari pressed.

  “My parents and I don’t have a good relationship like you and your parents. They would have brought us nothing but anxiety. My father would have tried to be the boss and my mother would have wanted everything her way. Once we get back from L.A., we’ll invite them for a visit and they can spend some time with their grandson.”

  Shari nodded and stifled a yawn.

  “See,” he pointed out to her, “I told you it was a long day. Why don’t we go to bed?”

  Shari’s heart lurched. Go to bed? Did he mean together? Grant didn’t say, instead, he rose to his feet and then asked, “Would you like to go first?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, rising from the sofa. She grabbed her overnight bag and rushed into the master bath. It was elegantly decorated and fit for royalty—no, make that fit for two. The clawfoot tub sat regally in the center of the room, big enough for a couple of lovebirds, while the walk-in shower could easily fit several people.

  Shari took her time in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and changing out of the simple white sheath she’d been wearing into a white chiffon negligee with ruffles that stopped at her thigh. She’d received it as a gift from Belinda for her wedding night when she, Lorraine and Monica had taken her out for a bridal shower. Shari wasn’t sure whether she would need it or not, so she slid the matching chiffon robe around her and tied it around her middle. When she was sure she’d wasted enough time and Grant had fallen asleep, she emerged, only to find him wide awake and sitting up in an accent chair. “All done.” She gave a hesitant smile.

  Grant openly stared at her from beneath hooded lashes for several long, aching minutes before jumping off the couch. With the lustful look he’d given her, Shari had thought he was coming to take her to bed, but all she heard was a growl and some words muttered under his breath before he’d stalked into the master bath and slammed the door.

  While Grant busied himself in the bathroom, Shari snuck into the master bedroom and slid underneath the covers. Although they’d had an interlude in her house after the Cubs game, she wasn’t altogether sure she was ready to consummate their relationship. She hadn’t been with many men since Grant—only two others to be exact. Andre took too much of her time, so she wasn’t very skilled in the bedroom department.

  Grant was a gorgeous, sexy bachelor, who’d probably been with dozens of women. Shari was sure he was used to women who knew how to please a man in the bedroom. With her limited experience, Shari felt woefully inept.

  When Grant finally exited, he was bare chested and wearing silk pajama bottoms. He was buffer than he’d been in college and looked even more powerful now. His chest looked like it had been chiseled out of stone. Shari’s heart began pounding in her chest at the mere sight of her half-naked husband. She didn’t know how she was going to sleep with that image of Grant in her head.

  Before she
could utter a single word, Grant said, “I will be sleeping on the sofa in the living room.” He grabbed two pillows off the bed, stuffed them under his arms and left the room.

  Any hopes or secret desires Shari had about having a real marriage with Grant was dashed when he walked out of the bedroom on their wedding night, leaving her horny as hell. She was going to have a tense, lonely night in her honeymoon bed looking up at the ceiling and waiting for morning to come.

  * * *

  Grant plunged hard and deep inside her hot, moist sheath. Shari arched her hips up to meet him and clenched to take more and more of him in. She gripped the back of his head as he pulled out only to thrust in again. Her breathing became more rapid as Grant whispered, “Come with me, baby,” and their bodies began to rock in steady cadence. An intense orgasm shook Shari to the very core and she woke up with a start only to find Grant staring down at her holding a cup of coffee.

  “Must have been some dream,” Grant replied, smiling devilishly. “You were moaning in your sleep.”

  Shari colored. She wanted to crawl up in the covers and die. The dream had seemed so real, so vivid. She’d thought she’d been making love to Grant. Was it a wish-fulfillment dream? she wondered. And how noisy had she been? “I...I, uh...” She had no words.

  Grant smiled mischievously and offered her the other cup in his hand. “This might help you wake up.”

  “Thank you.” Shari accepted the proffered mug and lowered her head. She drank liberally, eager to wake herself out of her sex-induced daze. She couldn’t speak. What could she say? He probably realized that she’d been dreaming about having sex. Now, whether he knew that he was the intended recipient was another matter entirely.

  “About last night,” Grant began.

  Shari shook her head as she sat up. She used one hand to push the pillows back while holding the coffee cup. She didn’t really want to have this conversation. “You really don’t have to explain. You want a marriage of convenience. I understand the ground rules.”

  “There are no ground rules,” Grant said, sipping his coffee. “We’re in this marriage for the long haul. And I want fidelity. I don’t want you sleeping with someone else. So at some point, one or both of us might want more and...and let’s just let nature take its course, okay? No expectations.”

  What Grant was saying sounded fair and logical, but when it came to matters of the heart or lust, logic rarely ruled. Still, Shari asked, “Do you think a real marriage between us is possible?”

  “I don’t know,” Grant said, “but I certainly hope so. Otherwise, forever is going to be a long time.”

  * * *

  That was an understatement, Grant thought after he’d dropped Shari back home so she could change and go into Lillian’s while he was preparing to pack up some things to take to her house.

  His penthouse—with breakable pieces of art, vases and sharp edges—was no place for a growing boy. He was going to have to change his life entirely because he was about to be a full-time father. Gone were the days of gallivanting at the drop of a hat. There was someone, namely his wife and son, waiting for him. He also had the daunting task of relocating the Robinson Restaurants headquarters from New York to Chicago.

  He still couldn’t believe that he and Shari were married. Their sudden marriage still felt like a dream to him...until she walked out of their honeymoon suite at the Drake wearing that barely there, see-through chemise. Didn’t she know that she was playing with fire? It had taken everything in him not to rip the slip of fabric off her body and pin her underneath him until she was moaning like she’d been that morning. Is that how she would sound if I was buried deep inside her?

  He’d been surprised this morning to find her writhing in their marital bed. Had she been dreaming of him? If so, he would have liked nothing better than to make her fantasy a reality.

  His body said yes, go for it, but his mind cautioned him about getting involved with Shari too soon, too fast. She’d lost his trust and was going to have to earn it back. So he had to keep her at arm’s length, but for how long, he didn’t know. Grant surmised he could so long as he could keep his desires for her at bay. Moving into her home wasn’t going to make that choice any easier, but he was determined to try. Shari had to know that she couldn’t deceive him for half a decade without consequences. The problem was in punishing her, he was also punishing himself.

  * * *

  “I’m surprised to see you back to work so soon,” Belinda said when Shari walked into the kitchen at Lillian’s that morning. “I would have thought that gorgeous husband of yours would have kept you in bed for days.”

  “You do remember we have the You Take the Cake crew coming to film us today,” Shari replied, putting on her apron. “For background for the show.”

  “Of course I remember,” Belinda said as she decorated some cookies with frosting. “I just assumed you weren’t coming. I mean, you did just get married yesterday and all.”

  “I would never miss this,” Shari replied huffily. “This competition is as important to me as it is to the rest of you.”

  “The rest of us what?” Carter asked, walking into the kitchen, several minutes late as always. He stared at his two cousins and then turned to Shari. “And what are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?”

  Belinda gave Shari an I told you so look.

  “In case you guys forgot, Grandma asked all of us to be present for this background piece,” Shari reminded them.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing more to the story?” Belinda asked.

  Shari sighed. “There’s nothing more other than wanting to be a part of the show like everyone else. Speaking of Grandma, is she around?” Shari changed the subject. She in no way wanted to get in a conversation about her marriage with her family. Otherwise, they might start to see the obvious holes.

  “No, not yet.”

  “I have to say, you looked beautiful yesterday, kid,” Carter told Shari, kissing her on the forehead. “You’ve never looked lovelier.”

  Shari smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

  After the initial fuss over Shari’s sudden emergence after one night of honeymooning, they all got to work. Soon, they were baking cakes, cookies, cupcakes and pastries for the day.

  When they’d started making a custom cake for a six-year-old with a carousel theme, they were interrupted by her aunt Daisy and Shari’s father. “They’re here, they’re here,” her aunt said, rushing into the kitchen.

  Shari wiped the sweat off her forehead with her towel. “Oh, my goodness, how do I look?” she asked. She turned and looked at Belinda, who was asking her the exact same question.

  “I don’t know why the two of you are getting all bent out of shape,” Belinda’s fiancé, Malik, said from her side. “I think they want to see us in our natural habitat, you know, working, not perfectly made-up.”

  “That doesn’t mean we want flour on our faces,” Shari responded. She had only had a few minutes to check her hair and lipstick in the restroom before the You Take the Cake crew came into the kitchen, bringing with them lots of noise and commotion.

  There was Brandon Tyler, whom Shari recognized immediately as the host of You Take the Cake. He was a young, slender man with pompadour hair, who couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He was wearing jeans, a plaid shirt with a blazer over it. Then there was a director and several cameramen; one held a camera on his shoulder, another was holding a boom.

  “Everyone, this is Drew Campbell,” her father said. “He is the supervising director of You Take the Cake and will be helping facilitate the interviews today with Brandon here.” Her father smiled at the host.

  “Thank you, Mr. Drayson,” Drew said. “We’re here today to meet Miss Lillian, get some background on the bakery and to interview all of you who help make this place a success.”

  Over t
he next couple of hours, Brandon interviewed each of them individually, Belinda and Drake, Carter and Shari and even Malik since they were the primary bakers. They were finishing up when Grandma Lillian and Monica came in.

  “Perfect timing,” Brandon replied when he saw Lillian Drayson. “The matriarch of the family has arrived.” He walked toward her and when he reached her, he kissed her hand. “A pleasure, Mrs. Drayson. I hear you’ve been running this bakery for over fifty years. And from what several of the customers have said, it’s a Chicago institution.”

  Grandma Lillian smiled. “Yes, it is. I’ve prided myself in producing the best in gourmet baking the city of Chicago has to offer.”

  “Well, your grandchildren have certainly inherited your gift,” Brandon replied. “We’ve already been able to film several of their works of art.” He motioned to the cake creations on the counter. “Not to mention sampled some of them.”

  Grandma Lillian smiled at her brood, and Shari couldn’t help but feel proud. They had done a fine job upholding the family tradition. She knew her grandmother was sure that this competition was the right thing to bring them all closer together. She was ready to retire and allow one or more of her grandchildren to take over the business. Shari only hoped it would be her.

  * * *

  When Shari arrived home, she was surprised to see Grant and Andre on the floor playing Connect Four. How the hell had he gotten in?

  “Look who’s home,” Grant said to Andre by his side.

  Andre quickly jumped up from the floor and plowed into her arms. “Mommy, Mommy. Daddy came to get me from Grandma’s house and we went to the movies.”

  Daddy. Had Andre really gotten this attached, this fast? Had Andre wanted a dad all this time and she’d just been oblivious to his needs?

  “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” Shari planted a kiss on his forehead. “I was just about to shower and go pick you up, but I see I needn’t have worried about that.”